High School MD
by Indiana Smith
Summary: AU fic. In a series of one shots House, Cuddy, and Wilson try to survive high school. There will be plenty of teen angst to go around.
1. He came in through the bedroom window

**I don't own the show, or House, Cuddy or Wilson. Wish I did. I'd even take Taub.**

**It's AU. Yeah it has been done before but I want to give it a shot. This will be a series of one shots depicting House, Cuddy, and Wilson in high school. It will be in no particular order.**

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**_High School, Sophomore Year__..._**

Lisa Cuddy was seated in front of her mirror trying to brush out her hair. Like most nights, her hair refused to cooperate. It was unruly, curly and thick.

She hated it.

Her mother always shouted at her for threatening to cut it. 'Complete strangers always come up to you and compliment your curls, why would you cut them off?' Cuddy could hear her mother's controlling voice perfectly in her mind. 'I wonder how long I'd be grounded if I cut it?'

Her thoughts were interrupted by a small knock on her windowpane. Putting her comb down, she knew who it was before she opened the window.

"What's wrong Greg?" Cuddy asked him, unable to completely hide the worry in her voice. When he came knocking at her window it was never a good sign.

Greg House climbed through her window with ease, like he had done so many times before. "My damn father kicked me out again." He grumbled.

He moved to her bed and made himself comfortable while she closed the window.

"He didn't…hit you, did he?" Cuddy asked, afraid of what the answer would be.

"No Cuddy, I'm fine. I got home after curfew again and he told me I'm not allowed in. I didn't feel like sleeping in the yard when there is a perfectly good bed right here." He patted the mattress, and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Not at all amused at the situation, she shook her head.

"Oh no. You're sleeping on the floor." She said as if scolding a child.

"But Cuddy." House whined, "I'm a guest."

"An uninvited guest. Now move and be quiet." Cuddy whispered harshly. "If my parents hear you, we're both dead." House moved off the bed sitting in the chair Cuddy had recently vacated.

"Don't worry, I'm sly as a fox." House winked at her.

"With those big feet you're more like an elephant." She grinned back.

"You know what big feet mean…" He quipped.

"Oh, why does every conversation go straight down the gutter with you?" Cuddy asked annoyed.

House just shrugged. "It's part of my charm."

Cuddy sighed and threw one of her many pillows at him. "Go to sleep." She whispered as she lay down and turned her lamp off.

"I'm not tired Cuddy." She heard from the darkness.

She shook her head with a smile. He never knew when to shut up, but she wouldn't want him any other way. They'd been friends since junior high; one day he sat next to her in biology and he hasn't stopped bothering her since. His nightly visits have become something of a routine for them. Mostly he came because his father wouldn't let him in the house, but every now and then he came over with a black eye, or a bloody nose. Those were the only nights Greg kept quiet. Thankfully tonight wasn't one of them.

"Well I'm tired, so go to sleep."

"I need a blanket." He whispered from the floor.

"Go and get one, you know where they are." Cuddy answered without opening her eyes.

Her eyes shot open when she felt her own blanket being tugged off of her.

"Greg!" She said a little louder than she should have, and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. She listened intently for any sign that her parents, or worse, her sister had heard her. When she heard nothing she breathed out a sigh of relief.

"God Cuddy, you worry too much."

"And you don't worry enough." She said pulling the blanket out of his grasp and tucking it under herself.

House groaned as he lifted himself off the floor. He tip toed to her closet and grabbed an extra blanket.

"You are so lazy." Cuddy admonished, smiling at him in the dark.

"Hey, I had to walk all the way here from my house." House said pretending to be offended.

"Yeah, all two blocks." Cuddy giggled, unable to hold it in.

House lay back down on the floor next to her bed and tried to get comfortable. Cuddy propped herself up on one elbow and looked over the side. She could barely make out his lanky frame, but she could see the moonlight shine in his beautiful blue eyes. Cuddy couldn't help but get lost in those blue orbs sometimes.

"Don't you think you should tell someone…about your father?" She asked gently, knowing he wouldn't appreciate the question.

"Forget about it. I'm fine." House said quickly, wanting this conversation to end.

"This is abuse, Greg. He could get arrested."

"It's not abuse, he just…likes things the way he likes them." He reasoned.

"Kicking your son out of the house to sleep outside? Giving him a black eye? None of those things are abusive?" Cuddy felt her anger rise at the thought of House's father. She knew he didn't tell her everything that went on and she could only imagine the sort of things Greg had to put up with.

"It doesn't happen that often. And what would I accomplish by telling someone? Either I tell and everyone thinks I'm lying, or I tell and he goes to jail and I break my mother's heart. Neither of those scenarios sound appealing to me." House said somberly, leaving Cuddy no room for argument.

"Besides," He added lightly. "If he stopped kicking me out, I'd have no excuse to come bother you."

"You don't need an excuse to bother me, you know that." Cuddy said without hesitation.

"Thanks Cuddy." He smiled.

To House, Cuddy's house felt more like home than his own. He'd probably go crazy if he didn't have her house to hideout in while the old man was home from assignment. Wilson lived too far to walk to in the middle of the night, so she was all he had.

Cuddy smiled into her pillow happy she could offer him a safe place to stay, knowing he appreciated it more then he admitted. She lay down and closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to take her. Suddenly the blanket she was snuggled under gently slid out of her loose grip toward the floor. Her eyes flew open once more.

"Greg!"


	2. Riding in cars with House

**Just some pointless drivel I couldn't get out of my head. Hope you like it anyway.**

**Also, for future chapters: Has Cuddy ever mentioned her sister's name? I can't remember.**

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**_High School, Senior Year..._**

"Did you hear the one about the naked blond that walks into a bar-"

There was a collective groan of protest from the front seat of the car.

"House, I've heard enough of your jokes tonight to last a life time." Wilson moaned from the driver's seat.

"Seriously, haven't you done enough damage for one night?" Cuddy asked, also angry at House's blabbering.

"Excuse me for trying to have some fun for once." House said defensively.

"Getting kicked out of a bowling alley in the middle of a game, a game that _I_ had to pay for, is fun for you?" Wilson asked.

"It beats bowling." House grinned.

"You're an ass." Wilson said for the tenth time that night. "This is the fourth time we've been asked to leave because of you. You're lucky they didn't call the cops. Next time I'm just taking Lisa with me."

"You just want a chance to finally win a game for once." House said, much to Cuddy's annoyance.

"For your information, I was beating both your asses before _you_ decided to use your head as a bowling ball."

"First," House began counting on his fingers, "I wasn't playing to win. Second, I didn't _decide_ to use my head as a bowling ball. I slipped." He said as innocently as he could.

"Yeah, because you were running down the lanes like a crazy drunk!" Cuddy yelled.

"Touché" House muttered from the back seat. "But you still can't beat me."

"When do you want to go again? We'll find out if that's true." Cuddy shot back at him.

"How about next week?"

"How about tomorrow?"

"Can't. I have to wait for Wilson's next pay check."

That got a chuckle out of Cuddy and another glare from Wilson.

"Enough you two, I don't need your bickering on top of the headache I already have." Wilson said still annoyed.

House could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. Wilson was taking this whole bowling thing very hard. He was probably just embarrassed for getting kicked out in front of the entire chess team. He'd get over it, he always did.

"Hey, anyone up for some strip poker at Jimmy's place?" House winked at Cuddy's reflection in the rear view mirror.

Cuddy scoffed. "In your dreams, Greg."

"How did you know?" House didn't miss a beat.

"Pig." Cuddy muttered.

House grinned, he loved to get a rise out of her.

"Where the hell are we anyway?" House asked looking out the window for anything recognizable.

"We're five minutes from your house, genius. I'm dropping you off." Wilson answered curtly.

"What? But the night is still young." House whined.

"Yeah, and maybe we'll make it till morning if you went home."

"Ouch, someone's got their panties in a bunch."

They drove by House's place and saw his father's car in the drive way. House didn't say anything, but Wilson never even slowed down. Angry or not, Wilson would never do that to him. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by House or Cuddy, but neither of them would mention it out loud. That's the way it was with them; the things unsaid were always more important then the things that were said.

Wilson glanced over at Cuddy. "Your place or mine?"

"Um, your place is fine."

Wilson nodded, turning the car around. "I guess you're not seeing Dylan tonight then?"

House perked up at the mention of Cuddy's current boyfriend.

"Trouble in paradise already?" House sneered.

"No, we just need to give each other some space." Cuddy said defensively. "I'll see him tomorrow at school."

"Well I can't wait." House said faking excitement.

"You know, he's still looking for someone to play the keyboard-"

"Not in a million years would I want to play with those inadequate morons he calls a band." House said irritably.

"Oh come on they're not that bad." Wilson said, trying to keep the peace.

"If I have to listen to one more song about 'Lisa my Love' or 'Lost without Lisa' I'm gonna kill myself." House threatened.

It was true. Since they'd been going out, Dylan had filled an entire notebook of songs dedicated to Cuddy. They had recently started getting on her _own_ nerves. She could only imagine how much Greg loathed them.

"What about you? Do you have any new masterpieces in that twisted mind of yours?" Cuddy asked him, smiling.

"Of course I do, but it's a work in progress." House said feeling a little flustered at her comment, but hiding it well. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to rhyme something with Wilson?"

The image of House singing a love song to Wilson was too much for Cuddy. She laughed until her lungs burned for oxygen. Even Wilson cracked a smile at the joke, unable to remain angry with House any longer.

Still giggling, they pulled up in Wilson's driveway and made their way to the house.

"Before we go in, let me make it clear that there is to be no food or drinks in my bed." Wilson warned them. "I had to vacuum my mattress after you dropped that damn popcorn bowl last week."

"Why are you looking at me? Cuddy dropped it." House said pointing to her.

"If you hadn't thrown a pillow at me, I wouldn't have dropped it." She snapped.

"If you didn't steal my seat, I wouldn't have thrown it." He shot back.

"Yeah well if you-" Their arguing faded as they made they're way up to Wilson's room. Wilson sighed shaking his head.

'Some things don't change.' He thought as he made his way into the kitchen to make a _huge_ bowl of popcorn. Wilson knew he was asking for trouble, but it was just too much fun to resist.

Thanks for reading. :-)


	3. Origin story

**So sorry for the really looooooooong delay, but writers block is a b*tch. I am currently working on two other chapters that should be up soon, but after that I can't make any promises about when, or if inspiration will strike again. I'm kind of veering off topic of my previous chapters with this one, but I hope you guys will like it all the same. (If there is anyone still interested)  
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**BTW Who else loved the season 7 premiere? If the writing stays that good for the rest of the season, we are in for something special :)  
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_**Junior High...**_

The hallways of Junior High School are no place for an undersized, scrawny kid with a sweater vest and a pocket-protector.

Unfortunately for James Wilson, that's exactly what he was.

Needless to say, he was a bully magnet during all of his years in Grammar School, and so far things weren't much different for him in Junior High.

While walking down the hallway on a Monday afternoon, Wilson's books were knocked unceremoniously out of his hands and scattered all over the hallway floor. Wilson turned to his attackers and was greeted with the usual laughter from the boys responsible. Phillip Webber and his gang of idiots had targeted Wilson since the first day of school. His life has been a living hell since then.

"Hey Jimbo, I have a bit of a problem." Phillip said with fake sincerity.

The rest of the boys surrounded Wilson, preventing any escape.

"My mom forgot to pack me lunch again. You think you could help me out?"

Wilson knew what would happen to him if he refused. Not wanting to be humiliated in public again, he quickly handed over his delicious lunch to Phillip.

"Thanks Jimbo." Phillip grabbed the plastic bag out of Wilson's hand. "Same time tomorrow!" He called back as he and his friends took off down the stairwell, their laughter echoing down the now quiet hallway.

"I can't wait." Wilson muttered sarcastically to himself as he crouched down to pick up his belongings.

'Junior High sucks.' Wilson concluded. Only a month in and he already had more enemies then friends.

Once everything was back in order, Wilson made his way down to the cafeteria where he would once again be skipping lunch.

Angry and alone, he found a new table in the corner of the lunchroom (hopefully making it harder for Phillip to find him) and made himself as small as possible. He began reading one of his text books to pass the time while all of the other "normal" kids used their lunch hour to congregate with friends.

It didn't take long for Wilson to be found. Lucky for him it wasn't by Phillip.

"If you're trying to disappear, you _need_ to lose that sweater vest." A smug voice called over to Wilson. "Makes you stick out like a sore-thumb."

Wilson looked up at the voice to find it belonged to an odd looking boy with the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen. The boy was tall, probably taller then Phillip, with a long face and hair that stuck out in all different directions. Wilson's gaze eventually returned to his piercing blue eyes. He had a very intense stare that made Wilson squirm a little. It was like he could read his thoughts.

"I like it." Wilson said defensively about his choice of clothes.

The boy held up his hands as if to surrender. "To each his own." He said, and sat down across from Wilson.

Wilson closed the text book he had been reading, and started to get up. There was no doubt in his mind that this guy was going to kick him off of _his_ table like Phillip did on the first day of school.

"Whoa! Where are you going?" The boy asked him.

"This is your table right?" Wilson asked.

"It's not like I own it or anything." He shrugged. "Sit where you want."

Wilson nodded and sat back down in his chair. "Thanks." He mumbled, and continued reading from his text book.

Not a minute later, Wilson was interrupted again.

"Not having lunch today?"

"I'm not hungry." Wilson lied.

"You weren't hungry for the whole month of September?" The boy asked with a raised eyebrow.

Wilson was surprised and embarrassed that someone had noticed. Once again he found himself getting defensive. "I don't see you eating." Wilson pointed out, avoiding the question.

"Big breakfast." The boy answered quickly, and they both fell silent for a moment.

Wilson could no longer concentrate on reading. His current thoughts were being occupied by the nightmarish memories of his Junior High experience so far.

"How many times are you going to read that page?" The boy nodded toward the text book.

"How many more questions are you going to ask?" Wilson responded, annoyed by the constant interruptions.

The boy shrugged.

"Is there anything else you want to know before I start reading again?" Wilson asked him, slowly but surely losing his patients.

The boy met his gaze and nodded. "Yeah. I want to know why you let Webber use you as his personal vending machine?"

Wilson was at a loss for words. He wasn't expecting this kind of bluntness from a stranger.

"Wha- Have you been spying on me all month?" Wilson asked, once again avoiding the question.

"Don't flatter yourself. I spy on everyone."

"Oh, that makes me feel a lot better." Wilson said sarcastically, resting his head in his hands.

"You still didn't answer my question. Why do you take their crap?" The boy asked seriously.

"What am I suppose to do? There are four of them, and none of them need a step stool to reach the top shelf...unlike me."

The boy scoffed. "So you're just going to spend your entire high school life catering to those losers? How are you going to grow without the proper nutrition?"

Wilson almost smiled at the joke.

"You don't know them, they can be very persuasive." Wilson warned.

"See, you play right into their hands. Those jerks only bother you because they know you won't fight back." The boy said knowingly.

"What would you do?" Wilson asked.

"Fight back, obviously."

"They'd kill me!"

"I admit it wouldn't be pretty, but once they know they're going to have to work for their food they'll move on to an easier target."

"You really think that will work?" Wilson asked skeptically.

"I know it'll work." The boy said confidently.

Wilson thought of all the terrible things that were likely to happen to him if he tried to defend himself. This guy was obviously insane, but he sounded like he was speaking from experience.

"Have you tried it before?" Wilson asked timidly.

The boy didn't answer right away. He took his time debating on how to answer the question.

It was that moment when Wilson realized they both had more in common then he first thought. There wasn't anyone else who sat at this table with him. No group of idiot friends like Phillip had. This guy wasn't like them. He was an outcast, like Wilson. And just as alone.

"Lets just say, bullies aren't restricted to grade school." The boy said, his piercing gaze once again on Wilson.

Wilson stared back, contemplating what he had heard.

"What's your name?" Wilson asked, intrigued.

"House." The boy answered. "Greg House. And yours is James Wilson."

"...What else do you-" Wilson began to ask, but House cut in vigorously.

"You've been bullied your whole life, or at least since the day your classmates figured out you were short for your age. All of your previous friends have been girls who felt sorry for you and always thought of you in that '_awe he's so adorable_' little brother kind-of-a-way. You've got a father who is at work more then he's at home, and a mother who is one hell of a cook. Your choice of clothes tell me you're not interested in what your fellow classmates think of you. Your choice of literature tells me you _do_ care about what your teachers think of you. You're ambitious, but not cut-throat. Smart, but modest, and..." House grinned, "...you're way too nice for your own good."

Wilson sat with his mouth open at the flawless description of himself. "How did you...How do you know all that?" Wilson asked, shocked.

House just grinned wider. "I sit. I watch. I fill in the blanks."

When Wilson continued to stare at him in shock and fear, House decided to elaborate.

"You were smart enough not to fight with those morons, which tells me you've gotten your face kicked in before and don't want it to happen again."

"But you said I should-" Wilson began, but House continued.

"Everyday your dad drops you off before work, but never picks you up. That means he drops you off just so he could spend more time with you and your brothers in an attempt to be less of a deadbeat dad. I figure your mom has to be a good cook because you always pack a lunch instead of buying one like a normal person. Last week Webber was munching on cheese bread, and homemade matzo ball soup...which by the way tells me you're Jewish. The rest was pretty obvious to figure out."

Wilson had never been more freaked out in his life. This guy was a complete stranger, and yet he seemed to know his life story.

"Oh, and I know your name because we're in the same homeroom." House said as an afterthought.

"Right." Wilson nodded, feeling embarrassed for not being able to remember even an obvious detail like that. "I didn't realize..." Wilson didn't know what to feel. Amused? Offended? Angry? He settled somewhere between amazed and annoyed.

"So that's what you do all day? You sit here alone and guess at everyone's life story?" Wilson asked bewildered.

"Pretty much. Though I have to say, it gets really boring really fast when you know you'll never find out if you're right." House said dejectedly.

"You could get to know them, like a normal person." Wilson suggested.

"I'm not exactly a people person." House said, looking around the cafeteria at his fellow peers.

"Yet you're still talking to me?"

"That's because you're too nice to tell me where to go." House pointed out. "Anyone else would have called me a jerk and ran away by now."

"Then you are a people person." Wilson rationalized. "It's everyone else that isn't a _House_ person."

House grinned. "Well, I'm definitely not a _normal _person."

Wilson shrugged. "Normal's overrated anyway." He said with a wave of his hand.

House nodded and laughed, but before he could reply, the bell rang signaling the end of lunch.

Wilson began packing his things, and House got slowly up from his seat.

"I'll see you tomorrow in homeroom, I guess." Wilson told him.

House nodded. "And back here. We can enjoy not eating lunch together."

Wilson smiled and nodded back.

They went their separate ways, alone once again, but Wilson was happy to have found, if nothing else, someone to not eat lunch with. Maybe his luck was finally starting to change...

TBC...


	4. Blood, sweat, & ketchup

**This is a companion piece to the previous chapter. A little more Wilson torture in this one, but don't worry, he'll be fine. ;)**

**P.S. Cuddy will return to us in the next chapter. Promise.  
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_**Junior High...**_

Wilson found himself running down the stairs two at a time to the cafeteria. He had finally made it to lunch with all of his food accounted for, and his mouth was watering at the thought of his pastrami sandwich on rye.

When he entered the cafeteria, he made his way over to the same table he had been sitting at all week. House wasn't there yet, so Wilson took a seat alone and began eating his sandwich.

As he took his first bite, Wilson felt a presence behind him. Thinking it was House, Wilson looked up with a smile. The smile quickly became a frown when he saw Phillip's face grinning back at him. "Hey, you found a new table for us." Phillip said pleased. Wilson looked away nervously.

"What's the matter? Not happy to see us?" Phillip took a seat next to Wilson while the other three boys stood around them.

Wilson's stomach was in his throat. He kept his eyes downcast, not wanting them to see his fear.

It didn't work.

"That looks delicious." Phillip pointed to Wilson's lunch. "But we've got our own lunch today." He gestured to his tray full of fries. "It's not as good as your mom's soup, but we're not all as lucky as you." The boys laughed, and Phillip continued.

"They just need some ketchup. Ketchup makes everything taste better, don't you think?" Phillip asked Wilson, who didn't respond. "Sometimes the four of us will finish an entire bottle in just one lunch period." Phillip said with an evil glint in his eye.

He was up to something.

Phillip waved a large boy over to Wilson. "Mike, why don't you show Jimbo how much ketchup we like on our fries?"

"No problem." Mike growled.

Dread overtook Wilson. He knew what was coming before it happened.

Closing his eyes, he felt the weird sensation of ketchup sliding over his hair and down his face. He heard the group of boys erupt with laughter, which got the attention of other people in the cafeteria. Soon everyone else was pointing and laughing as well.

Wilson began trembling with embarrassment. His face became the same color as the ketchup in his hair.

To top off the humiliation, Phillip picked up the rest of Wilson's delicious sandwich and added it to his own tray.

"Enjoy your lunch now, Jimbo." Phillip sneered.

The group of boys headed back to their own table, laughing as they went.

Wilson wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. He could feel his eyes begin to water, but he knew if he cried now, he could never show his face at this school again...

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Greg House entered the cafeteria uncharacteristically exuberant. It had been a good day so far.

His father left for Guam this morning where he would be stationed for two months, which in turn meant House would be getting lunch money for at least two months.

One of his father's favorite punishments was refusing to give him lunch money...or any money for that matter.

Making his way over to the lunch line, House silently cursed when he saw he would have to wait more then two minutes to get his lunch. As he waited, he caught a glimpse of Wilson out of the corner of his eye. Wilson had just sat down at their table, and it looked as if he managed to hold onto his lunch today.

House couldn't stop the grin from forming on his face. He was glad Webber decided to lay off him today.

Normally House would make it his mission to alienate anyone and everyone, but there was something different about Wilson.

Wilson was an odd kid, much to House's delight. There was a dark side to him that House could detect underneath the boyscout exterior. He was interesting, and House was known to fixate on the things he found interesting.

House also had to admire his bravery. Kids who wore sweater vests and pocket protectors were a lot braver then the ones with ripped jeans and purple hair.

As the line lessened, House selected his lunch. He grabbed a sandwich, some chocolate pudding, and a plate of fries before making his way over to the cash register. Just a few more seconds and he'd be enjoying his first lunch at his new school.

Exiting the line, House glanced over to his table. What he saw made him lose his appetite.

Those idiots were laughing their heads off while Wilson was taking a bath in ketchup.

House could see the torment on Wilson's face, and he felt a rage grow inside him. Memories of his father's constant cruelty came rushing to him. Getting ridiculed in front of strangers, getting beaten with his father's belt, being insulted to the point of tears. He knew the exact pain and humiliation Wilson was feeling at that moment. It was a feeling House wouldn't wish on anyone. He suddenly felt very protective of Wilson, and the only thing on his mind was the overwhelming urge to hurt Phillip Webber. A lot.

Gripping his tray tightly, House quickly made his way over to the group.

Heading back to their own table, Webber and the other morons were completely unaware of the danger heading straight for them.

As Webber walked closer, House made his move. He took his lunch tray, full of crispy french fries and rich chocolate pudding, and smashed it into Webber's face. Webber never knew what hit him. He fell to the ground instantly and House followed, throwing as many punches as he could before Webber's posse came to his rescue.

House felt someone grab him from behind, pinning his arms at his sides.

'_Shit_' House thought. In this position he was dead meat. Four against one didn't stack too well in his favor. He tried to break free of the boy's hold, but he was kicked in the groin before he could wriggle away. The air left his lungs, and his legs gave out from under him. If the guy behind him wasn't holding him up, he'd have been sprawled out on the floor.

There was a yell from somewhere to the left, and House looked up long enough to see Wilson had joined the fight. Ketchup and all.

House tried to regroup, but it was too difficult as he was getting pummeled from every direction. He vaguely noticed the circle of students that had formed to watch the fight and cheer them on. He felt the sudden sensation of falling, and then the impact of the hard floor. The boy behind him had finally let him go.

The room was spinning. House's head felt like it was split in two.

Just some side effects of getting hit in the face repeatedly.

"Had enough yet?" House heard Webber ask him furiously. When he looked up at Webber's face and saw his busted nose covered in blood and chocolate pudding, House couldn't hold back a smirk.

"I'm still conscious ain't I?" House snapped back from the floor, too stubborn to give up on even a losing fight. He felt a kick to his head and this time spots of darkness clouded his vision.

House heard a yelp of pain to his right, and saw Wilson on the floor just a few feet from him. One of the boys standing over Wilson was stepping on his fingers, making sure he would not intervene again. House tried to get up, but it felt as if his limbs were filled with cement.

"You're freaking crazy." One of Webber's cronies said to House. "Why do you care what we do to that little shit?"

"Is this guy your new boyfriend?" Webber taunted Wilson.

"Don't be jealous." House muttered, and received another blow to the head for it.

Before any more damage could be done, the fight was finally stopped by two teachers with megaphones.

"EVERYONE GET BACK TO YOUR SEATS! GET BACK TO YOUR SEATS NOW OR WE'LL HAVE THE ENTIRE CLASS STAY AFTER SCHOOL TODAY!"

As the crowd dispersed, all that remained were the six boys covered in blood and...ketchup?

"Mr. Webber, get yourself and your crew cleaned up and meet me in my office." One of the teachers ordered, aware of the reputation Phillip Webber had acquired during his short time at the school. "I'm going to need to call all of your parents to discuss how long your suspensions will last." He listened to the loud protests that followed while the second teacher turned his attention to House and Wilson.

"Are you boys alright?" He asked kneeling down next to House and helping him to sit up.

"I think so." House said. "My head just feels like a bowling ball fell on it."

Wilson was on his feet, holding his hand gingerly to his chest. "I'm okay sir." He told the teacher, not looking anywhere close to okay.

The teacher looked at them both and sighed. "I'm taking both of you to the nurse's office to make sure you're okay. If everything is fine, I want you both in my office before the end of the day. I'm going to find out what happened down here."

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**1 hour later...**

House and Wilson were seated together in Mr. Richards' office. They had been cleared by the nurse, neither sustaining any serious injuries. House ended up with a bloody nose and a black eye. Wilson's hand wasn't broken, just a little sore. He had some bruising around his right cheek too that would probably look pretty nasty tomorrow. Considering how bad it could have been, they had both been lucky to walk away with such minor injuries.

Currently, both were lost in their own thoughts.

House had his head tilted back, and was holding a bag of ice to his face, trying to stop the inevitable swelling.

Wilson was painfully flexing his hand, thinking about the day's events. It had been one of his worst days at Junior High. It was going to take a very long time for him to live this one down.

Wilson looked over to where House was seated with the bag of ice covering half of his face. Wilson smiled in spite of himself. Today also happened to be one of his best days at Junior High, for he had found an unlikely ally in House. Knowing someone had his back made Wilson feel more confident then he ever had before. It was a comfort to know there was someone there going through the same thing he was.

If you were going to be humiliated and beaten up in front of all of your classmates, it was best not to do it alone.

"Thanks for helping me today. No one has ever done that before." Wilson said gratefully. "Even if we did get our asses kicked." He added with a smile.

House was adjusting his ice pack when he heard Wilson thank him. "Yeah, well don't make it a habit, okay?" House said uncomfortably. He wasn't used to being praised, and he definitely wasn't used to being thanked.

"Why did you do it?" Wilson asked him eagerly.

House was silent for a moment, then shrugged. "I hate unfair fights."

"But the fight was just as unfair when you took on four of them at once." Wilson pointed out.

"Would you have preferred I laugh along with everyone else in the lunchroom?" House snapped, annoyed at Wilson's prying.

Wilson shook his head. "No, of course not."

"Then stop asking so many damn questions." House grumbled.

"Sorry, it's just that it was pretty amazing." Wilson said delighted. "I just wish I could have seen Phillip's face when you decked him."

House's one good eye looked over at Wilson. "Jackass never knew what hit him." House smirked. "Crumpled like a piece of paper."

Wilson laughed, but then hissed in pain as the bruises on his face made themselves known.

"Looks like you took a few direct hits yourself." House gestured to Wilson's face.

Wilson shrugged. "A few, but it's not that bad."

"From where I was laying it looked like that oaf was doing a tap dance on your fingers." House grinned.

"At least it wasn't on my head. I thought for sure you were gonna need dentures by the time they were through with you." Wilson grimaced at the memory.

"They hit like a bunch of girls." House muttered with his face still half hidden by ice.

"Then remind me not to upset any of the girls _you_ know." Wilson said, alarmed.

"You're not their type anyway, Jimmy." House goaded.

"It's their loss." Wilson said confidently, playing along with House's game.

"Now that you mention it," House began seriously. "You _do_ make a cute red head." He gestured to the now dried ketchup that was matting Wilson's hair to his head.

Wilson stared at him with a blank expression on his face. House stared back, trying not to crack first.

Suddenly without warning, Wilson burst into laughter, unable to control himself.

House could do nothing but join in. It was contagious.

Their laughter continued even when Mr. Richards entered the room. Finding the boys in hysterics, he suspected they had taken one too many blows to the head. He cleared his throat, causing the laughter to cease and the two boys to look up at him.

"Now, can someone please tell me what happened in the cafeteria this afternoon?" he asked.

Still grinning, the boys looked at each other, and cracked up again.

In spite of the ketchup, the bruises, and the overall embarrassment of today, Wilson felt happier right then, than he had in a long time.

It was a day he would not soon forget, and he looked forward to having many more of them with his new friend.

END...


	5. Lie, cheat, & steal Wilson's lunch

**_High School, Senior Year..._**

"Come on Wilson?" House pleaded.

"No." Wilson answered shortly.

"What have you suddenly grown a conscience?"

"No."

"Have you suddenly grown a backbone?"

"...no."

"Then what's the problem?" House asked agitated by Wilson's unusual resistance to his demands. "I'm the one who's cheating. If we get caught, Bellington won't know you had anything to do with it."

"Mr. Bellington knows we're friends. He's not going to buy I'm innocent and I really can't afford to spend another Friday afternoon with you in detention." Wilson argued. "I have a science project due Monday and I haven't even started it yet."

"So because _you_ procrastinated, _my_ grades have to suffer?" House pouted, trying to guilt Wilson into agreeing.

"Say what you want. I'm not doing it this time." Wilson grabbed a lunch tray and made his way toward the lunch line. House followed, not bothering to pick up a tray of his own.

Wilson nodded toward the milk cartons to House's left. "Grab me a drink." House tossed one onto Wilson's tray.

"So you're really not going to help me? Your best friend?" House clutched a hand to his chest as if he were in pain.

"You don't need help. You're just too lazy to do the work yourself." Wilson pointed out.

House stopped short, causing the line of students behind him to collide with each other. "Let me get this straight. If I was an idiot and didn't know what I was doing, you would help me but because I'm _not_ an idiot, you won't?"

"That sounds about right." Wilson answered with a smile.

House sighed and snatched the apple Wilson had just picked up, and took a large bite out of it.

Wilson glared at his friend. "Well _that'll_ convince me to help you." He said sarcastically, adding another apple to his tray.

House took another large bite. "I liked it better when your mom packed your lunch." He said looking down at the food on Wilson's tray in disgust.

"Well, things change." Wilson replied solemnly.

"You suddenly having a problem with me cheating off you...would be an example of that." House suggested as Wilson frowned at him.

"Maybe after Bellington flunks you, you'll start to take _something_ seriously." Wilson said as he paid for his lunch.

House shook his head. "Doubt it."

Wilson and House made their way across the cafeteria and sat down at their usual table.

Wilson began eating his lunch while House took Wilson's milk carton and washed down the apple he had just finished. Putting the now half empty carton back on the tray, he searched the cafeteria for a familiar face. "Where's Cuddy when you need her?"

"She's probably having lunch with Dylan again." Wilson shrugged.

House leaned back in his chair so he was balancing on only two legs. "When is she going to dump that jackass?"

Wilson sighed. "They've been going out for three days."

"So?" House scoffed. "She hasn't eaten lunch once with us in those three days."

"House...do you _miss_ Cuddy?" Wilson asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't miss anybody. I'm simply asking what is so difficult about remembering to eat lunch with your friends every once in a while?" House griped.

"I think you do." Wilson teased. "I think you might even be _jealous_ of Dylan."

House rolled his eyes. "You got me. It's always been my ambition to one day be as mind-numbingly boring as he is." He said sarcastically.

Wilson smiled knowingly. "I miss her too."

House was about to respond, but they were interrupted.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late." Cuddy said taking her usual seat next to House. "I was upstairs talking with Dylan and I just lost track of time."

House was glad to see her, but of course he wasn't going to let her know that.

"Did you hear something?" House asked Wilson, making a show of looking around the cafeteria. "It sounded kind of familiar."

Cuddy slapped House's arm playfully. "Shut up Greg, I said I was sorry."

"Now you have to say you're sorry for hitting me." House said, finally meeting her gaze.

"Don't hold your breath."

Wilson laughed, enjoying their banter. He had missed this. House was right; things weren't the same now that Cuddy and Dylan were dating. The three of them hadn't eaten lunch together at all this week, which they had been doing everyday for years until Dylan showed up. He would just have to get used to it. House on the other hand, wasn't a big fan of change (Understatement of the century) and Wilson could tell the situation was bothering him a lot more then he admitted. Too bad the jackass was too stubborn to ever admit the way he really felt about Lisa.

"There is only one way for you to earn my forgiveness." House said, ignoring her last comment. "You're going to have to let me cheat off your math test today."

"Let me think...no." Cuddy answered quickly.

"I'll buy you lunch for a week." House bargained.

"You mean _I'll_ buy her lunch for a week." Wilson muttered, not happy with the idea.

"No Greg, we all know you can ace that test without cheating." Cuddy reasoned.

House sighed. "That's not the point. The point is to avoid work at all costs."

"So you want me to enable your laziness?"

"That's all I ask." House said innocently with big puppy dog eyes.

Cuddy laughed. "Pout as much as you want, I'm not helping you cheat." she said the last part forcefully.

House's eyes widened. "Say it a little louder, I don't think Bellington heard you on the third floor." He whispered frantically to her. He looked around the cafeteria to make sure no one overheard them.

"Uh-oh, jerk alert 11 o'clock." House muttered under his breath.

Cuddy was about to turn around to see what he was looking at when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey babe." Dylan greeted her as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Dylan." Cuddy smiled and gave him a quick kiss. "What's going on?"

"Well I was just wondering if you could help me out with that math homework we talked about? It's pretty brutal." He nodded to House and Wilson in greeting.

Wilson gave a tight smile. House didn't bother looking up.

"Oh, um...sure, of course I'll help you. Just give me a sec." Cuddy answered hesitantly.

"Thanks, you're amazing Lise." Dylan smiled and walked back to his table.

When he was out of ear shot, House turned to Cuddy with a look of utter betrayal.

"So babe, you ditching us again for your boy toy?" He asked, imitating Dylan's high-pitched voice. Cuddy suppressed a smile at House's use of Dylan's pet name for her.

"I'm sorry guys, he needs my help with Trigonometry. I won't be gone long." She saw the disappointment on Wilson's face and immediately felt guilty. She was looking forward to spending time with them too. It had been too long since they just sat and ate lunch together. She would have to talk to Dylan about spending more time with her friends later. Until then...

"I promise I'll make it up to you guys." Cuddy tried to reassure them. "James, maybe we can go bowling this week when you get off work?" Wilson's face perked up at the mention of bowling.

She turned to face House. "Greg, I'll let you copy my test answers, okay?" Cuddy conceded.

House didn't reply. He was too occupied burning a hole through the table with his glare.

"See you guys later." She muttered, and made her way over to Dylan and his friends.

"At least she didn't forget us." Wilson sighed and continued eating his lunch.

"She just ditched us instead." House said angrily before stealing some fries off of Wilson's tray.

Once again they were one short of a trio and House knew this Dylan problem wasn't going to go away on its own. It was about time he got to know one Dylan Crandall a little better...

**END...until next time.**


End file.
